Sam Woke Up Gay
by EnchiladaDan
Summary: This is a "woke up gay" trope. It is intentionally bad. Sam/Castiel. Explicit Content.


**A/N: This is _intentionally_ bad. Have fun.**

When Sam woke up that morning, it hadn't felt any different from any other morning. His hair was a mess, he had to take a piss, and he was sporting some serious morning wood. But after the fight with that witch last night, he should've known better.

He began to get the feeling that something was off when he went to pee. His usual go-to for boner eradication was the thought of dudes fucking each other. This morning, however, that didn't work. He was as hard as ever, and he felt like his bladder was going to burst. So he dug deep: he recalled the last time he had seen his brother naked and instantly went flaccid. Thank god.

After Sam showered, he went into the living room to watch TV. The boys were in between cases, and he didn't really feel like doing any research. Cas was already on the couch, watching a re-run of Buffy The Vampire Slayer. This, Sam could deal with.

As he settled in next to Cas (Dean was sleeping on the only arm chair), he felt his pulse pick up. At first, he didn't realize what it was. But the longer he watched the program, he was sure – he was getting turned on. By _Xander_ , of all people. It was an early episode, the one where Xander joined the swim team and as the female protagonists ogled his Speedo-clad form, so did Sam. The scene only lasted a few minutes and was for comical value more than anything, but Sam could feel himself hardening. He quickly made an excuse and left the room.

Back in the safety of his own room, Sam's heart hammered. Shit, was this voodoo Viagra or something? He locked his door and backed away from it, turning to his bed. Fine, he'd take care of it. Whatever. A re-run of puberty wouldn't kill him.

As he got down to it, however, he found his usual sites weren't working. He reached for the lube in his bedside drawer and a few tissues. With a sigh, he typed in some of his kinkier interests. But no matter what he did, nothing seemed to be working. He didn't feel any closer to getting off and he worried about chafing. But his mind inexplicably flashed back to the image of Xander in a Speedo and he felt a pulse of arousal go through him. That was… weird.

He took a deep breath, and looked up male solo videos. When he found an approximation of Xander, he clicked the link, watching the dark-haired guy on the screen rub one out. Sam watched rapt, touching himself. Before the video had time to end, Sam felt himself tipping over the edge.

When he came down, he looked down at his dick in confusion. So he had a thing for Xander now. That was fine, he could deal with that. What he couldn't deal with was the fact that not even the Mistress Magda bondage videos could get him off. That was… troublesome.

He cleaned up and went back into the living room. As he walked closer to the sofa, he felt himself drawn to Cas. Dean was still sleeping on the nearby recliner and, judging by the amount of beer bottles on the coffee table, seemed unlikely to wake soon. Sam sat down and edged closer to Cas, settling his arm behind Cas' head, letting it rest along Cas' shoulders. Cas turned to look at him, confusion in his eyes. Sam closed the distance quickly. He met Cas' lips and before he knew it, Cas was kissing back.

Sam reached down, hardly believing his own boldness as he unbuckled Cas' belt. As his fingers made quick work of the fly, Cas arched his hips off the couch. Sam pulled the jeans down, surprised to find Cas didn't wear underwear. Cas had his hand in Sam's hair, and when Sam seemed frozen there, he gently pushed Sam's head down. Sam didn't think to react until he was nearly choking on Cas' love muscle. He pulled back, coughing and sputtering. "No," he replied to Cas' quizzical face, "not this."

"Then what?" Cas asked, staring down at his trembling member. The spit-slick rod was aching to be touched, and Sam was not touching it, damn it.

"I want to frick-frack." Had that really just come out of his mouth? Christ on a cracker.

"What?"

"You know… noodle in caboodle." Gosh, why was he so nervous?

Cas' eyebrows rose and he quickly hiked his jeans back up. "Then I suggest we relocate. Or your _very_ heterosexual brother may be angry." Sam's gaze followed his, to the drooling alcoholic in the chair, and he nodded. Sam's eyebrows knit in worry, noticing the bitter tone in his voice. He nevertheless followed Cas to his bedroom, ignoring the obvious feeling that they should have done so before Cas tried to get him to deep-throat.

As Cas pushed Sam against the wall, mouthing at his neck, Sam said, "I – I don't understand. Before today, I never…"

Cas began unbuckling his belt and looked up into the man's eyes: "Sam, it's okay. All of us are a little gay sometimes."

He popped open the button to Sam's waistband but led him over to the bed before undoing his zip. He sat down on the bed, and then pulled Sam to sitting. Without missing a beat, he leaned over and rubbed at the tent in Sam's underwear peeking out of his undone jeans. Sam let out a surprised groan at the feeling of someone else's hand on his dangle – it had been awhile. And it certainly had never been another man, except that time with Brady after the Alpha Sigma Phi kegger, and Sam never talked about that. After all, it's not gay if it's in a three-way.

But this, this was _very_ gay.

Sam removed Cas' jeans again, this time determined to not be face-to-face with Cas' junk. Cas pulled off Sam's jeans and boxer-briefs, and as Sam grabbed Cas' shoulder to flip him, he asked, "Should I… lick your asshole?"

Sam didn't see any lube anywhere and wondered how he'd get his rod inside of Cas. Should he go back to the kitchen for some oil or something? "Do you want to?" Cas asked, easily flipping over onto his stomach.

Sam parted Cas' cheeks and asked, "Are you clean?"

"Of course I am," Cas replied petulantly.

"Sorry…" Sam mumbled. "Maybe we should just use lube…" he backed out and Cas rolled his eyes. He figured if Cas had any that would be the perfect way to ask.

Cas flipped onto his back and turned, grabbing a large bottle of lube from his nightstand cabinet. Of course – the nightstand! Why didn't Sam think of that?

He climbed on top of Sam and pushed him onto his back. After hitching Sam's legs on top of his shoulders, he pressed a cold, slick finger against his man flower. "WHOA! What are you doing?!"

"What do you mean?" Cas replied evenly. "I'm trying to loosen you up."

"Loosen _me_ up?"

"Yes Sam," he responded. "How else did you expect to diddle?"

" _I_ wanted to diddle _you_."

Cas let out a laugh. "The only guy I'd ever bottom for is Dean."

With that, he poked his lubed finger inside. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cas reach for something else under his pillow: a small funnel. Sam made a noise that sounded like he was dying, which Cas took as encouragement. Cas pulled the finger out suddenly and grabbed the bottle of lube. He lubed up the narrow end of the funnel and slowly worked it into Sam's pink starfish. Cas shook the bottle of lube, opened the top, and tipped it into the funnel. Sam felt the cold liquid enter his ass and he shivered. Cas capped the lube and tossed it onto the bed. With a flourish, he removed the funnel. Sam's brown eye clenched tight, no longer held open by the kitchen utensil. He felt the lube squelch inside of him and it sent a pulse of arousal through him.

Cas worked his finger back into Sam, and then added another. Sam let out a shudder, words failing him as Cas' finger brushed his prostate. He still didn't think he wanted to be fricked… It felt really undignified, actually. Cas pressed firmly against the hard nub of his prostate on each stroke in and Sam could feel himself relaxing, could feel his muscles opening up to him. His untouched disco stick leaked against his stomach and as he reached down to stroke it, Cas swatted his hand away. "No you don't. You'll go off too quick."

Sam was left wondering who, exactly, Cas had banged in his brief time as a human as the other man scissored his fingers apart, lube leaking out onto his rim. The man breached him with a third finger and Sam vaguely registered the burn of being stretched so wide as he focused in on Cas' prick: the thing was a modest 10 inches and Sam was practically begging for it at this point. Almost as suddenly as he'd started with the three fingers, they all left his hole. Cas dripped more lube onto his dick and grabbed Sam's cheeks with both hands. The lube made the grip slippery and he cursed as his diddly-bop slid along the cleft of Sam's ass, missing Sam's stretched booty-chasm entirely. He wiped his hands on the sheets, holding his meat sword steady with one hand and parting Sam's sweaty cheeks with the other. He took a deep breath, watching as the dusky orifice twitched in anticipation. With a hard push, he was inside. Sam tried to breathe and get used to the size, but realized Cas was _still_ pushing in. Jeez, how much dick did this guy _have_?!

Once he crammed all of it inside, he began a hard pound in and out of Sam's ass. Sam cried out in ecstasy, his prostate being poked with every thrust in. Cas pulled out of him and rearranged Sam on his lap before fucking back into him.

In their frenzy, neither man noticed the door slowly squeak open. It was only a crack, but if either had bothered to look, they would have seen a figure begin to pass by the doorway and then stop. Dean had to stop drinking so much: from the crack in the door, he just knew he had to be hallucinating; he saw the sweaty, bronzed-Adonis body of his younger brother being manhandled in Cas' lap, being skewered by his dick. Cas' hand was tangled in the dense thicket of Sam's pubes, gently stroking them as he fondled Sam's balls. Sam's eyes were closed tight in pleasure as Cas fondled his kiwis and thrust up into his naughty space. Cas' flesh slapped against Sam's ass and the loud whack, whack of their lovemaking reverberating throughout the room. Cas knew Sam couldn't see his face from this angle; he mouthed Dean's name over and over, his eyes cast towards the ceiling. His eyebrows were knit in concentration, his other hand gripping Sam's hipbone tight. His other hand travelled up from Sam's balls to his chin, turning Sam's lips toward his. As the two kissed, Dean had to look away. What the hell was he doing, anyway – watching his little brother and his best friend get it on?

Even if he was hallucinating, he was sick for even thinking about it. He shook his head to clear it, feeling suddenly nauseous. He failed to notice anything over the lewd moans of the impassioned lovers, including the dog that had trailed its way into the bunker. He stopped just short of his room, doubling over and heaving. He should really stop drinking. When he finished, he thanked his stars the hallway was tile and not carpet. He spotted a bucket in the corner and covered his mess with it. He was too drunk to clean right now. And as he thought back to the scene he had witnessed, he went into his room and vowed to never speak of it again.

Back in Cas' room, Sam couldn't believe this was actually happening. He was fucking – no, being fucked by – a guy. And it was Cas!

As Sam bounced up and down on the thick rod, his own dick began to spin in a circle. He felt like he was being split in half on it but he didn't hesitate even for a second. As each thrust perfectly pounded against his prostate, Sam knew he couldn't last much longer. However, he should have known the day wasn't done throwing him for a loop. Cas began to talk dirty to him and it was the hottest thing Sam had ever heard.

"Sam, do you want me to cum in you?"

"Oh God, _yes_ ," Sam replied breathily.

"Please don't talk about my father while my dick's in your ass."

"…"

"I'm going to fill you so full you get pregnant."

"Cas, I'm a man."

"Yeah you are… you're my naughty, slutty, dirty little boy…"

"F-fuck!" With that, Sam came. His dick was still in rotation as it spurted out of him – getting on the floor, his chin, and a nearby dog.

When did they get a dog?

And why didn't anyone _tell_ him?!

He LOVED dogs!

Sam was pulled from his reflection by the sensation of Cas cumming in his ass. As the hot cream filled his asshole, he let out a ragged moan. Cas made a strangled grunting noise, then was silent. Sam slowly de-shish-kabobbed himself and then, as if waking from a dream, said, "Cas? What are we doing here?"

"What do you mean?" Cas was perplexed. Surely Sam – the man dripping cum from both his front and back halves – didn't randomly get amnesia.

"Oh my … YOU CURED ME!"

"I … what?"

Sam spoke in a fast sputter, so excited about the nearby proximity of a canine: "The witch last night hexed me and then I woke up gay – getting fucked must have broken the curse."

"Um."

"Cas, how did you **know**? You're a genius!"

"Yes… That is what I was doing – curing you." Cas' eyes shifted around the room, failing to meet Sam's for even a second. He huffed and quietly added, "In no way was I using you as a replacement for your brother."

"What?"

"Nothing, Sam. Look, a dog!"

Sam bent down to pet the dog, unconscious of his Nicki Minaj-esque butterfly squat. Cas smiled fondly at the juxtaposition of the naked lothario with the child-like heart. Sam winced slightly at the way his hole stung in this position, but he tried to ignore it. He knew he'd be all right – he had a dog now.


End file.
